


More Repercussions

by marysiak



Series: Harry Potter and the Midlife Crisis [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers, M/M, The Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8283734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysiak/pseuds/marysiak
Summary: An unfortunate article in Witch Weekly causes problems between Harry and Draco.





	

****Without Ginny in it, the house was very empty. And with no work any more, Harry didn't know what to do with himself there. He tried to pop home once a day, to keep an eye on things and see if there was post, but his study and the garden were the only places there he really felt comfortable at the moment, so he was spending most of his time at Draco's.

It worked eerily well between them, so far at least. He liked lying in bed beside Draco's long, lean body. Liked being woken up in the middle of the night with a sharp elbow in his ribs for being too clingy and then sucking Draco off in the dark to apologise. Liked waking up in the morning, earlier than he normally would, because Draco looked so good as he got up to go for a run, with the morning sunlight glittering on his pale skin and his fine hair. And sometimes Harry would talk him back into bed and they would fuck and then Draco would fall asleep again instead of running, claiming he'd done enough exercise already.

He liked having a house elf and a garden big enough to fly in. He liked looking at Draco's things. He liked working out with Draco, liked starting to feel properly fit again. He liked this new life so frighteningly much that he had no idea how he was going to figure things out when it was time for the kids to come home from school.

–

Ginny put up with two days of her mother niggling at her about trying to work things out before she finally snapped and told her that Harry had left her for someone else so there was nothing to work out.

Then she had just about had to sit on Molly to stop her heading straight over to tear Harry a new one for cheating on her baby girl. Not that there wasn't a tiny little bit of her that wouldn't have liked to have seen that, but two days in and she wasn't really angry any more. Even at the time it had really only been hurt pride.

She should have seen it coming. She knew he wasn't happy. She even knew that Harry found Malfoy attractive. He had mentioned it once, years ago, and she had teased him about it for a while and then gradually forgotten about it.

Harry had never kept his bisexuality a secret, he had told her not long after the War when they had got back together and it had been a comfortable thing between them. Not a threat, something they played with. She would ask him if he thought this guy or that guy was cute and he would humour her. They'd even on occasion taken the discussion a little further in the heat of passion, whispering fantasies to each other in the darkness.

But never about Malfoy. That had been a passing comment, that she hadn't even remembered until she was sitting at the kitchen table trying to put together all the pieces of what Harry was saying. It had just risen out of her wheeling mind, the look of amused surprise on Harry's face, her telling him that explained why he spent so much time obsessing about Malfoy at school, him denying he had ever fancied the prat back then, his cheeks red even as he laughed with her, them tumbling into bed not long after.

But no, she knew there had been nothing then, not really. Not until Albus and Scorpius went missing together. Not until she had helped Harry to see that Draco had changed. Encouraged him to spend time with him. Felt bad that Draco was so lonely, that he'd lost his wife so young.

She sighed.

She had thought you were just supposed to get on with things, people didn't really get divorced in the wizarding world. Although it was becoming more common these days. If you went back a generation it was almost more acceptable to “accidentally” kill your spouse than it was to divorce them, especially among purebloods. And when it came to that sort of thing, the Weasley's were still purebloods. For all that she thought of herself as a modern woman, she had allowed herself to slip into a traditional role very easily.

It had been over a week now, and aside from a letter from Harry letting her know how telling the kids had gone, they hadn't spoken at all. She had written to all three of her children individually, repeating what Harry had told them. That Christmas would be fine, that they were all still a family. She'd said if any of them wanted her to come talk in person she'd sort it out, but they had all declined. She should have gone with Harry to see them, but she hadn't trusted herself. She hadn't wanted the children to see her look badly at their father or Godric forbid if they'd got into an argument in front of them. He should have told her sooner, given her more time. But what was done was just that, done.

She missed her house.

But really, it had always been Harry’s house.

–

They were unusually spending the night at Harry’s. Draco had wanted to look in his attic at the stuff that had been put there from back when the house belonged to the Black family. They’d been up there till late, and then dirty and sticky they had jumped into the shower, and then fallen into the guest bedroom to finish what had started under the warm water. By the time they were done with that it seemed like far too much effort to go and sleep anywhere other than the bed they were already in.

Being the earlier riser, Draco was already up when the first owls started to arrive.

Harry remained in blissful oblivion until Draco’s irate yelling woke him up.

“Wake up Potter, you gibbering idiot, what have you done!”

Harry gazed blearily at the door, where Draco was standing and brandishing something at him. He felt around for his glasses, and couldn’t find them.

“Accio glasses,” snarled Draco and then threw them at Harry’s face.

“Ow!” Harry put them on. “I didn’t do anything, what are you on about?”

Draco threw a magazine at his head. He caught it before it hit him in the face. It was Witch Weekly, they must have sent him a complimentary copy. He had forgotten this was coming out soon…. Well actually he had kind of forgotten on purpose. Which was probably not the best plan for dealing with the situation.

He was on the cover, smiling shyly, more to the point his chest was on the cover, as he somewhat ungracefully pulled his t-shirt off over and over again. “They said they were going to use one with my shirt on for the cover _,”_ he said indignantly.

“POTTER BARES ALL!” blared the cover, and in smaller letters, “And he’s back on the market!”

([Excerpts from Harry's photo shoot](http://forreadingaddicts.co.uk/your-photos/harry-potter-boudoir-shoot-hotter-flagrante/14661))

Draco was glaring at him in a way that Harry suspected could melt steel.

“I thought it would be less… um… scandalous looking,” he said.

“Just… why? I mean why on earth, after all this time, would you suddenly decide to pose naked in Witch Weekly? Naked!? In Witch Weekly!!”

“I didn’t pose naked!” Harry yelped. _‘Did I,’_ he wondered. He had drunk quite a lot of free champagne at the shoot, for his nerves.

Draco stormed over, grabbed the magazine and opened it to the centrefold.

Harry did indeed look very naked, his buttocks at least looked impressively pert for a man with an office job.

“I’m wearing underwear,” he protested lamely.

“You’re wearing a jock strap with snitches flying around the waist band! Where did you even get that? They gave it to you, didn’t they!? And you put it on! What is wrong with you?”

“I just… Ginny was angry about me quitting the job, so I looked back at some of the old offers I had… and they were offering a lot of money...”

Draco stared at him as if he were some sort of unpleasant moldering animal a cat had left on the bed, then he stormed back out the room and Harry heard him going back down the stairs.

He was struggling into his trousers when he heard a yell and a familiar shriek from downstairs.

By the time he made it to the living room, Ginny was beating Draco over the head with a rolled up copy of Witch Weekly and shouting, “This is your fault! Did you put this idea in his head? Did you!?”

Harry tried to get between them, shouting over her, “He didn’t know anything about it!”

Ginny immediately moved to beating Harry with the magazine. “What is wrong with you! My Mother reads this! Students at Hogwarts read this! Did you even think about how this might affect the children!?”

Over her shoulder he saw Draco give him a dark look and step into the fireplace, disappearing in a puff of green flame.

“You were worried about money,” Harry said from behind his arms. “They were offering over a year’s wages. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Pleased that my naked husband is being delivered to every witch in the country!! Pleased that this is how you announce that we’re breaking up, with your buttocks!!!!”

She pulled her wand and Harry dived behind the couch to avoid her bat bogey hex.

“Come out here and face me like a man, Harry James Potter. If you’re big enough to pose naked in a national magazine, then you ought to be big enough to face up to the consequences!”

“I didn’t think it would look like that,” Harry pleaded. “They said it would be tasteful.”

“Don’t give me that,” she hissed, casting a furnunculus round the corner of the sofa that skimmed his leg and destroyed a pot plant behind him as he scrambled round the other side. “You of all people know you can’t trust a gossip rag like Witch Weekly. You did this to get at me, admit it.”

“I...”

She dived over the sofa and caught him with a leg locker curse. Glaring down at him she repeated her accusation, “You did this to hurt me, why?” and she sounded less angry and more upset now that she had him pinned down.

“I didn’t… I don’t think I did… I don’t really know why I did it...”

Ginny looked like she was working up to something really nasty. Harry put his hands over his face.

“I think I did it cause it was something I would never normally do,” he babbled quickly. ”I don’t know what’s got into me, Ginny, I knew everyone would be angry, but I didn’t… I didn’t mean for it to be so… I drank a lot of champagne at the shoot and you know I can’t hold my drink. Please don’t set me on fire. I’m sorry.”

When enough time had passed without him being hexed he lowered his hands and peered at her. She was sitting back on the sofa rubbing her forehead as if she had a headache. He sat up cautiously, his legs still locked together.

“Living with my Mother is driving me nuts,” said Ginny. “And you are not helping.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You… you could move back here….”

Ginny glared at him.

“I mean I could move out, find a flat or something. You could have the house.”

“The house belongs to you, Harry. It was Sirius’s house,” Ginny said, but she sounded sad about that fact.

“It’s the children’s house,” Harry told her. “I always meant to give it to them once they were old enough to need a family home of their own. Wasn’t quite sure how that was going to work, with the three of them, but I was going to figure it out later. I never thought I’d stay here forever. You could move back in and the children can come here in the holidays to their own rooms. I don’t fit here any more. I’m hardly here at the moment anyway.”

“Well... if the look Draco gave you was anything to go by you might not have anywhere else to go,” replied Ginny cautiously.

Harry blushed. “He’ll get over it, and I didn’t mean I’d move in with him anyway. I mean that would be a bit… presumptuous. We’ve only been dating a few weeks.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“Um… I suppose, we’ve never really discussed it.”

Ginny sighed. “I would like to move back.” She stood up. “But if you think that gets you off the hook on this,“ she waved the magazine again, “You’re mistaken. You need to apologise to the children, they may not have seen it yet, but they will.” She headed for the fireplace. “And I would stay well away from my Mother for now, she’s on a very short thread about all this.”

Harry nodded.

Ginny took a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fire. Before she stepped in, she spun, fast and precise, and cast the slug vomiting course, then shouted “The Burrow” and was gone.

Harry’s gut roiled and he hurried to take the leg locker curse off himself so he could run to get a bowl before he started throwing up. He supposed he had deserved that.

–

The next few days he spent at home, as Draco had locked his floo and was ignoring his messages. He got a wide range of letters about the article. A large number of howlers about deserting his wife and children and generally being a great disappointment instead of the role model he was supposed to be, including one from Molly Weasley that was all together more personal and upsetting and he was purposefully trying to forget, and about an equal number of marriage proposals, some of which vied with Molly’s Howler for most disturbing thing he’d had sent to him. The article had decided not to print the bit when he had admitted to being bisexual, he supposed they thought their readers wouldn’t like it. He was quite annoyed about that, he had wanted to just get everything out at once. Or perhaps that wasn’t the best way to phrase that thought. There were bits he absolutely hadn’t intended to get out. Like his arse.

And all things considered he wasn’t sure he could have emotionally coped with the response to him coming out on top of all the other things he was being yelled at for, so maybe it was for the best.

Besides, if Draco ever forgave him, then he supposed people would find out about his preferences eventually. I mean they couldn’t just hide in his house having sex forever. Or maybe that was exactly what Draco had wanted. But no, he was sure they both knew that the children would have to be told eventually, at least if they kept seeing each other, which required Draco to stop hiding from him. All in all the Witch Weekly article had not been one of his better ideas. Although they had paid very promptly, so Lily was definitely getting a broom for Christmas.

Lily had been very good about it, she had written him a short letter saying that lots of people had shown her the article and that she didn’t see why it mattered, so she had told them she already knew her parents were breaking up and that she had seen her father’s bottom before and didn’t think it was all that interesting.

Harry had laughed at that.

Albus was furious of course. He had also written a very short letter, but much less entertaining. Apparently Albus was never going to speak to him again because he was awful and embarrassing.

Harry felt he had a solid point, but would probably get over it come Christmas, or definitely by the end of the school year at the outside.

James was unimpressed, but also not bothered. Apparently it had led to several girls asking if his arse was as good as his father’s, so he was making good use of the in.

Harry was unsure how he felt about teenage girls looking at his arse, or indeed looking at his son’s arse. He had sent the letter on to Ginny asking if she thought maybe she could have a talk with him about keeping his arse to himself, cause Harry didn’t think it would hold much weight coming from him.

Ginny had written back asking when he was moving out and informing him that if his son now thought it was appropriate to bare his behind to the female population of Hogwarts then it was Harry’s problem and not hers.

Harry pondered the moving out issue. He had rather been hoping to move in with Draco temporarily, but not having been able to speak to Draco that was clearly not happening. He had sorted a lot of his stuff into boxes while he’d been here so he was more or less ready to go, he just didn’t know where to. He’d never had to find a house in the Wizarding World before. He’d never lived alone before. He was oddly reminded of how he’d felt when he’d stormed out of Privet Drive when he was 13 with nothing but his trunk, his wand and Hedwig. He kind of wished she were here now. He wished Sirius were here now. He supposed he was a bit old to be craving a father figure, but it would have been good to have had one to talk to.

He fished out some recent Daily Prophet issues and had a look through the back pages to see if there were rentals in the classifieds section.

–

After a day of hellishly awful flat visits Harry decided perhaps the Muggle world was a better option. He’d seen three places; one lady had told him she didn’t think he was morally upstanding enough to be trusted in her house and had only agreed to let him view it so she could tell him what she thought of his recent choices, another had been a live in land lady who suggested there were other ways he might pay besides in galleons, he had declined, and the last had been considerably closer to Knockturn Alley than advertised and had some very worrying stains.

The problem was he was looking for something small and temporary while he sorted himself out, and the wizarding world didn’t really cater to those sorts of things. Most people owned their house and had often built it themselves or inherited it from family. Only teenagers straight out of Hogwarts rented places and even then most stayed at home till they could afford to buy a place.

So he took himself to an internet cafe and brushed up on his neglected computer skills - he tried to keep a hand in, but he needed to use them so rarely and things moved so fast in the Muggle world.

Being able to apparate meant he could live anywhere in Britain and still get to where he needed to be, so the first thing he searched for was the cheapest area of Britain to rent in. Google informed him Pendle in Lancashire was the cheapest place to rent in the whole country, Harry thought that was rather appropriate what with the Pendle witches, so he took a look at what was on offer. Even in the Pendle area rents were high compared to the Wizarding World, house prices in Wizarding Britain were still stuck in the 70s, much like a lot of the fashion choices. But he found a few one bed apartments for under £300 a month, which at the current exchange rate was about 35 galleons. Of course it would take some finagling to fulfil the muggle rental requirements, but he knew some people, so he wasn’t too worried.

–

A week later Harry was stewing in a room at the Leaky Cauldron with a pile of shrunken boxes and a headache.

Draco still wasn’t replying to his owls and he’d told Ginny she’d be able to move in today, back when he thought it would be easy to rent a muggle flat.

It was not easy. Apparently the muggles were making it harder and harder to rent places without a lot of proof of all sorts of things like credit and income and Merlin only knows what else and Harry had been inches away from using the Imperius curse on several occasions. But he felt that ending up in Azkaban really would be the final straw in what was apparently the complete meltdown of his life.

He looked around the room, he thought it might actually be the very same room he’d been put in when he’d run away in third year. But it probably wasn’t, he was just feeling maudlin. Hannah had been very nice when he’d shown up looking to stay the night and possibly longer, and hadn’t said anything about recent events, which had been a relief. Neville wasn’t about, which Harry was even more relieved at as he was really more Ginny’s friend these days and he didn’t think Neville was likely to approve of his choices anymore than that first land lady had been. Or maybe he was just feeling sorry for himself. Not being able to speak to Draco was really starting to get to him.

He had told himself he was making all these changes for himself, because he wasn’t happy. That he’d have done the same thing even if Draco hadn’t wanted them to keep seeing each other after that first time. But in the cold light of a single room at the Leaky Cauldron he didn’t feel so sure anymore. He was lonely. He was worried that Albus would never forgive him. That Lily and James were just being nice. That Molly hated him. That all his friends were Ginny’s friends. That he was wrong and it had just been a very long bad patch and that if he’d just tried harder he could have fixed things somehow. If he’d been a better husband, a better father. Instead he had burnt everything down in a matter of weeks; his family, his reputation, his whole life. Gone.

For what? A few weeks of admittedly spectacular sex? Draco had never promised him anything, and what was always at the forefront of Draco’s mind? His reputation. The last thing he’d want would be to have Harry drag his name further into the mud. He’d said himself that he didn’t want to be held responsible for Harry’s broken marriage. That stupid article in Witch Weekly had made him realise what a risk Harry was. A risk not worth taking apparently.

Harry lay back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. It was too clean, nothing to distract him, no cracks, not even a spider web. Under Tom, the previous owner, the Leaky had been considerably less pristine. Harry felt out of place even here, he belonged back then where he’d had a purpose.

Maybe that was what had always been wrong. His purpose in life had been to defeat Voldemort. Everything after that had just been a huge mistake. If he’d stayed on that white platform and taken the train on with Professor Dumbledore, maybe it still would have been enough. Neville would have killed Nagini and left Voldemort mortal. It needn’t have been Harry who struck the killing blow. Or maybe there had been a hiccup, maybe when he had killed Voldemort he had been supposed to die too, just flicker out of existence once his task was complete. They could have built a nice statue and Ginny could have had her Quidditch career and then married someone who’d treat her better than he had.

He knew he was wallowing, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was miserable and he wanted to think miserable things. He wanted a Mum and Dad to be on his side and put him up in his old bedroom that he’d never had. But everyone he’d ever had who belonged to just him was dead. Even Hagrid. He thought morosely about Hagrid’s funeral last year for a bit. He’d thought Hagrid would live forever, but then once upon a time he’d thought the same about Albus Dumbledore. Somehow Hagrid had managed to still occupy that mythical part of his mind that didn’t quite connect to reality. Until the day he caught a chill and just never got better. It turned out giants didn’t live nearly as long as wizards, and nor did half-giants, a fact Harry had never paid much attention to. Perhaps it was also that mythical part that had him running after Draco Malfoy like a teenager in need of a reality check.

Well, here was his reality check.

It looked like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been right after all, he really was a failure and a disappointment.

He stared at the ceiling for a very long time as he gradually slipped from somber moping into sleep.

–

He woke up feeling groggy and startled at the same time. He had been in the middle of a dream and a loud noise had woken him. Out in the hallway someone very drunk seemed to be trying to find their room. It was late, he’d fallen asleep sometime in the afternoon and slept through dinner and into the night, probably because he’d slept so badly the night before.

He got up and stumbled to the sink to find some water, drinking it straight from the tap.

His dream was still bright in his head, as if he’d just stepped out of the Forbidden Forest and into this room. He turned back and looked at the bed, he’d been dreaming about the Resurrection Stone.

Every now and then it crossed his mind and he wondered whether randomly lying in the Forbidden Forest was really the safest place for it. But he had never felt the need to go back and look for it. But perhaps he ought to. After all, what if some school kid, sneaking about the Forest for whatever reason, found it? Surely it was the responsible thing to find it and put it somewhere safer. If anyone was responsible for the Deathly Hallows, it was him. And yet they were all within reaching distance of each other at Hogwarts should any new power obsessed nut-case suddenly decide to go after them. The Elder Wand in Dumbledore’s tomb, the Cloak with Albus and the Stone lying in the forest somewhere that anyone could just trip over. The Elder Wand was safe enough, not because it couldn’t be found but because Harry didn’t have it, and the only way to truly take possession of it was to defeat Harry. Which, now he thought about it, didn’t sound all that safe really. I mean had he really never been disarmed in a fight in all his time as an Auror. He suddenly felt sure he must have been. That when he hadn’t been paying attention the Elder Wand might have switched it’s allegiance after all, and if it had once then it could again and again and again without anyone ever knowing. To nullify it’s power the owner had to die undefeated, but if Harry couldn’t be sure of it’s owner he couldn’t be sure of them dying undefeated.

There was nothing else for it, he was going to have to go to Hogwarts and make sure the Elder Wand was still his, and while he was at it he’d find the Resurrection Stone and hide it somewhere better, like the bottom of the North Sea. It would be fun, a little mission to take his mind off things. In fact James and Rose had a Quidditch match just this Saturday, it was perfect timing.

–

By Saturday Harry was feeling a bit better. He was still at the Leaky, and Draco still wasn’t speaking to him, but he had just about pinned down an agreement on a cottage by going straight to the owner and offering her six months and the deposit as a cash lump sum while being as charming as possible and explaining that because he was self employed as a stage magician he didn’t have the kind of paperwork an estate agent required. Then he’d done a few magic tricks to prove himself, presenting her with a red rose he’d transfigured from a pencil. She had said she would draw up a private lease contract for him and he could come and sign it on Sunday and move in as soon as the money was paid.

It was a tiny little place, as old as the hills and a bit draughty round the doors, but Harry liked it. It had character. He suspected it had been a cow shed originally. But it would do for now and he would have time to look at options that would accommodate the children in time for the summer holidays. Or he might just ply a few of his magic tricks on the attic to turn it into a temporary spare bedroom for a few weeks. It would be tight but it could be fun if it was just for the summer. And as small as the cottage was the garden was a wild and beautiful two acres with an old horse in part of it that belonged tot he landlady’s daughter.

He had sent James an owl to let him know he’d be coming to watch the game. James had written back and suggested he bring his thong as several of the girls in his year were interested in a live viewing. Which might have been enough to change Harry’s mind about attending, but he had plans to see through, so he had to go.

He figured he’d arrive early and go for a walk to visit Dumbledore’s tomb and then on into the forest, nothing suspicious about that.

He sat on the bed and finished his coffee, wondering if he should try and write to Draco again. His last letter had been sent just before he’d left Grimmauld Place. But really what was there to say at this stage, he was pretty sure Draco wasn’t even reading them anyway, probably just throwing them in the fire.

Sighing, he got up and headed out to apparate to Hogsmeade.

–

When Harry got to the gates of the school he was surprised to see Albus waiting there with Scorpius Malfoy to let him in.

“Hullo, boys. I thought only teacher’s could let people through the gates?”

“Got a one time key,” answered Scorpius cheerfully. Albus was kicking at the grass and staring off in the other direction. “The Headmistress uses them for parents coming to see Quidditch matches, so their kids can let them in instead of the teachers having to go back and forward. Didn’t used to need them because Hagrid used to...” Scorpius broke off realising that was a touchy subject. “Well, anyway. Here you are.”

Scorpius pressed the object to the gate and it dissolved into nothing with a chime, allowing the gate to open up. Harry walked through and it swung shut behind him. Albus immediately began to walk back up to the castle at a brisk pace, leaving them behind.

“Still not speaking to me then,” noted Harry.

“Ah, not so much, no,” agreed Scorpius. “He only came down because the Headmistress told him he had to open the gate for you.”

They began to walk more slowly up the front drive.

“I thought it was very brave,” Scorpius said suddenly.

“Sorry? What was?” asked Harry. “Albus coming to meet me?”

“No, the article. I mean, I can see why Albus would be upset. But all the same, I thought it was quite brave. I mean I know you do a lot of brave things, but this was different wasn’t it.”

“Oh, um, yes I suppose, thank you,” said Harry, startled. “Everyone else seems to think it was rather foolish.”

“I expect they were just surprised. It was quite surprising. One minute you’re eating your sausages and the next someone’s waving your best friends father’s bottom at you.”

Harry blushed. “Um, yes. Do you think… do you think I ought to try and talk to him or would it be better to just… leave him to calm down a bit?”

Scorpius thought about it and as he did Harry wondered at himself, asking a teenager for advice, but then if anyone knew Albus it was Scorpius. Or maybe Harry was just looking for a Malfoy to tell him what to do again, seemed to be an unfortunate habit of his these days.

“I think you had probably better give him a bit more time,” Scorpius said finally. “He needs something else to happen to take his mind off it before he’ll be ready to get over it.”

“That’s what I thought too,” replied Harry. They were approaching the entrance to the school. “Well, thank you for letting me in, but I think I can find my own way now. I might go for a walk around the grounds before the match, it’s been a while.”

“All right, I’ll go catch up with Albus then. Bye, Mr Potter.”

“Goodbye, Scorpius.” Harry watched him run off inside.

He couldn’t help but be surprised every time he met him at just how unlike his father Scorpius was. Even thought he had much the same colouring and features as Draco had at that age, their entire posture and facial expressions were different. Scorpius was awkward and puppy-like where Draco was contained and feline, or perhaps serpentine would be more appropriate. Harry allowed himself a momentary lapse into daydream as he walked around the outside of the school, heading for the lake. Draco, lithe and muscular in the sunlight of the bedroom, the way his shoulders flexed as he moved over Harry, sweat beading the edges of his forehead. God, he missed him. Missed the sex, but also just missed the man. He hadn’t gone this long without talking to Draco since before the boys had done their little disappearing act through time.

He passed a few murmuring school kids in the crisp morning air but by the time he had reached the lake all was thankfully quiet. With a couple of hours until the match and a cold wind blowing down the glen most people seemed to be staying inside. He arrived at Dumbledore’s tomb with his heart starting to beat a little too fast. He felt like a trespasser, here to disturb an old man’s rest. A grave-robber.

But he wasn’t here to take anything, he just needed to lift the wand up, maybe cast a quick spell, just to be sure it was still his. But it was hard to open the tomb to do so, even though he had cast the spells to reseal it himself. He was oddly afraid, in the way you were at night as a child, afraid of monsters in the dark. Which was ridiculous because it was bright sunlight and it was only a body, it wouldn’t even be decayed as the spells cast on the tomb preserved it. But maybe that was even worse, to see him lying there as if he had only just died, when over two decades had passed.

He lifted his wand hesitantly.

But before he could do anything he heard a twig snap behind him.

He spun around, startled, pointing his wand at what fortunately didn’t turn out to be a student.

“Harry Potter,” said the centaur calmly, as if he did not have a wand pointed at him at all.

Harry dropped his wand point. “Firenze. I didn’t think anyone was out here.”

“We know what lies here,” Firenze said solemnly. “No-one approaches unseen.”

“How...” he paused. “The stars I suppose?”

Firenze tilted his head, as if to say perhaps.

“I’m not here to take it away, I was just worried...”

Firenze stepped forward. “In a moment of weakness, a powerful object can become a dangerous temptation.”

Harry frowned. “But I’ve never...” he started to say, and then stopped himself as his mind ticked over the last few days, his thoughts, his emotions… his desires. “I wasn’t sure if... I was worried that it might have slipped out of my ownership without me realising, that it might be vulnerable to someone else...” he explained, but even as he said it he knew it was both true and a lie. He was worried that something had slipped away from him, but it wasn’t the wand, or the resurrection stone. It was something far less tangible. “I understand what you’re saying,” he said finally. “But at the same time, I do think I should check that it’s still safely owned by me. Will you allow me to?”

“I cannot stop you, Harry Potter. You are the Master of the Hallows, there are very few who could even try to stop you should you wish to take them back.”

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. “I don’t want that power, I never wanted it.”

Firenze gazed at him steadily then looked up at the blue daytime sky. “Mars is in Libra, a balancing point between two paths of action.” He looked back down. “Be wary of the path you take, Harry Potter. That which has been done once, can be done again.”

“Um… okay. So… maybe I’ll just leave it be then. I suppose you could let me know if anyone started sniffing around, looking suspicious.”

“We will be watching.”

“Right, thanks. I guess.”

“Venus is in Sagittarius,” was the response. “It is a time in which lovers wander.”

“Right,” said Harry again, wondering if Centaurs read Witch Weekly. “Only, there was something else I was worried about, I don’t suppose you know about that too?”

“We know there is something else in the forest, it has been there since that night. We suspect what it might be. We do not know where it is, and we have not attempted to find out.”

Harry nodded half to himself, thinking. “I don’t want someone to stumble on it by accident,” he said. “But I think perhaps it might be better if I didn’t go looking for it today. Could you… could you look for it? And let me know if you find it? I’d like to put it somewhere safer, somewhere away from anyone, myself included.”

“We have no interest in speaking to the dead,” Firenze told him. “Anything we need to know we can find out from the night sky, or the shapes of the clouds and the flight of the birds. If we find what you are seeking, we can hide it where no-one will find it.”

“Away from here?” asked Harry. “So they’re not so close to each other.”

“Yes.”

“That would be good. You don’t need to tell me where, but if you could tell me when it’s done, so I don’t have to worry any more.”

“We will contact you if it is done.”

“Thank you.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a certain weight off his mind.

He glanced at Dumbledore’s tomb again and stepped close enough to let one hand rest on the slightly warm white marble. As clean as the day it had been formed, the tomb hummed with magic under his palm. _‘Are you still mine?’_ he thought into it, feeling for any response. And there it was, he could feel it.

He realised he had felt it all along, felt it from the moment he had started thinking about it in his room at the Leaky. Of course the wand was still his, still his and tugging at his subconscious trying to get out of it’s tomb. And if Firenze hadn’t been watching over it, it may well have succeeded.

Harry pulled his arm back and stuffed both hands into his pockets, feeling his own familiar holly wand brush against his right.

He turned to Firenze to thank him again, but the centaur had disappeared back into the forest.

He stood there feeling foolish and more than a little worried that he had allowed himself to slip far enough to be tempted by things that had never tempted him so much before.

He supposed he had better stay to watch the game as expected, or the children would worry. But he wanted nothing more than to apparate to Cornwall and beat on Draco’s front door until he let him in. He had lost his footing somehow, and he wasn’t sure when, but he suspected it might have been that night back in 1981. They had saved their children, but the whole sequence of events had somehow derailed Harry’s life.

He had never expected to see Tom Riddle again outside of his dreams, never wanted to relive that awful memory of his parents death. They shouldn’t have stayed to watch, it had been a mistake - a terrible, sacreligeous, error of judgement that had pierced Harry to the core. The faded, confused memories he had housed of the event were now vivid and horrific and he saw them over and over at night. His father had looked even more like him from a distance, like watching himself fail, like it was his fault, and it was his fault, his life for his parents. And it had made him realise how much he had unintentionally sacrificed of his own life, and of Ginny’s, to try and make up for their deaths, to live the lifes they should have had if he had not been the Chosen One.

There was a reason you weren’t meant to travel in time, there were things you were not meant to see, not meant to meddle with, not ever.

And he could only blame himself for it happening. Albus was just a child, an angry, confused child whose father had let him down. Just as Harry had gone charging off to save Sirius Black because Albus Dumbledore had let him down, Albus had gone tearing off to do what he thought was right because Harry had screwed up.

Harry walked away from the lakeside and towards the Quidditch pitch, wandering off to pass by Hagrid’s empty hut. They hadn’t hired a new groundskeeper yet and the new Care of Magical Creatures Professor preferred to live in the castle. Hagrid was buried next to Aragog, a simple small granite headstone marking the spot. He had lived his whole life from the age of eleven on the grounds of Hogwarts, it had seemed only right he be allowed to remain here. The stone read “A friend to all creatures,” under Hagrid’s name and the dates of his birth and death.

Harry sat down by the stone and cleared away some of the twisting vines that were climbing it.

“I nearly did something really stupid today,” he told the stone. He remembered being carried by a weeping Hagrid all the way from the Forest to the entrance to Hogwarts, playing dead in his arms. Remembered Hagrid thrusting his very first birthday cake into his hands in a storm battered house in the middle of the sea as his Aunt and Uncle cowered in the corner. Remembered Hagrid holding a week old James in his arms and grinning through loud sobs. Harry burst into unexpected tears, and ducked his head down to the stone in hopes that no-one would come by and see him. “Fuck, Hagrid. What a bloody mess I’m making,” he sobbed.

He stayed sat on the ground for a good half hour until he thought he could get up without looking too much like someone who’d just bawled their eyes out.

He felt a bit better for it though. Strangely, less alone. He wandered over to the hut and peered through the window. It looked clean and empty inside, someone had cleared it for whomever might use it next. For a brief crazy moment he thought about offering to take the job himself, before he shook it off. It was a thought though, not becoming groundskeeper, but maybe teaching. He had always enjoyed the training aspect of being Head Auror, and before that of teaching Dumbledore’s Army. But it would have to keep until Albus finished school, assuming it was even possible. Could you even be a teacher when you had no NEWTS? He didn’t think his middle son would think much of his father moving to Hogwarts, although Lily would love it. Albus had always needed his space.

He headed for the Quidditch pitch, it was nearing time for the match to start and he could see students streaming over that way, fortunately their route didn’t take them as far down as to Hagrid’s hut so he had remained undisturbed there.

After the fourth catcall from a group of excitable Hufflepuff girls, Harry ducked out of the way under the stands to try and calm his red face. He was leaning against a post when he heard voices not far off. He peered around the wooden beams in the shadowy space and spotted two figures a little way off. They had not noticed him.

“I just don’t think it’s a good time,” one hissed.

“I don’t like having to keep secrets from my Dad,” the other replied.

With a start Harry realised it was Scorpius speaking, meaning the other figure must be Albus. Despite knowing how furious it would make his son, Harry kept listening. After all last time the boys had a secret to keep it had been fairly monumentally dangerous.

Scorpius was still talking. “He keeps asking me how things are going with Rose.”

“I told you to tell him you weren’t interested in her anymore.”

“I can’t,” Scorpius moaned. “If I do he’ll ask me who I am interested in and I’m a terrible liar.”

“But you’re already lying anyway!”

“It’s not the same, it was the truth to start off with, I hardly have to say anything to keep him thinking it still is. If I have to make up a new story I’ll screw it up.”

“You worry too much.”

“Please just say I can tell him, I’ll make him promise not to tell your Dad.”

Harry frowned, what was Albus trying so hard to keep from him?

“No, no way. You don’t know how he’ll react. I know I agreed we’d tell everyone at Christmas, but that was before all of this happened, when we were going to spend Christmas together. There’s no point now, it’ll just make everything more complicated.”

“But Albus,” Scorpius whined, tugging on his robes. He leaned into Al’s cheek, “You promised.”

Harry suddenly pulled back around the post and stared out in the opposite direction, startled. Because Scorpius had very clearly been nuzzling Al’s cheek in a way that made it very obvious what the secret was that Albus didn’t want his Father to know.

Harry quickly removed himself from the area before there was any chance he might either be seen or see anything else he really shouldn’t see. Before life could throw anything else his way, he climbed up the stairs to the parents and teachers stand. He had no idea if there were any more comments or catcalls as his ears were buzzing with a strange sort of white noise and he couldn’t focus on anything more than what was right in front of him.

Albus and Scorpius Malfoy.

He honestly didn’t know what to think, it was starting to freak him out more than a little bit just how alike he and Albus were. No wonder they had so much trouble getting along.

He wondered if the other children knew. He suspected not, Lily at the very least, couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Did Rose know? Possibly, after all she must have noticed Scorpius losing interest after having chased her for so many years. It had been a bit of a family joke to tease Ron with, that Draco Malfoy’s son was so enamoured of a Weasley. Although Hermione had always told them off for laughing about it.

He was broken out of his daze by Professor McGonagall speaking to him. “Harry.”

He looked up, “Headmistress.”

She gestured to the seat next to him and he made his way over.

“It’s been a while since you made a game,” she remarked.

“Got a bit more time on my hands at the moment,” Harry replied. “And this is James’ last year after all.”

“Indeed, and as good a student as he has been, I must say it will be something of a relief to have one less Potter to deal with.”

As James had taken his tales of the Marauders and the Weasley twins much to heart, Harry couldn’t really blame her for the sentiment. “Yeah, sorry about that thing with the crups last month.”

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked to the field where the players were starting to walk out. It was a Gryffindor vs Slytherin match so tensions were high between the houses. There was a sudden burst of hooting and raspberry blowing from the Slytherin stands and Harry looked over and immediately ducked his head down and buried his head in his hands.

Someone in Slytherin House had unfurled a gigantic banner. It showed Harry’s arse, blown up to 6 foot high, with the words “Gryffindors are Pants!” being farted out of it. Presumably it was intended to distract James and Rose.

It didn’t seem to be doing anything other than humiliating Harry, as James had cast a Sonorus on himself and was proclaiming, “Ladies and Gentlemen, my Father! Voted Witch Weekly’s Finest Arse, over 35s category. And yes, it is hereditary.”

Even Rose seemed to find it amusing rather than insulting.

Professor McGonagall spun around from instructing the Slytherin Head of House to deal with the banner and cast a “Finite” on James. Casting her own Sonorus she pronounced, “20 points from Slytherin for inappropriate imagery and 10 points from Gryffindor for cheek!” The crowd roared with amusement. “I mean… that is… Get on with the game!”

She sat down and glowered at Harry, not that he could see it as he was still hiding his face, but he could feel her glower scalding the top of his head. “I am so sorry,” he said through his hands.

Thankfully people were mostly distracted by the match once it got going, and a wild match it was. James was playing Beater as he had done last year, and he was decimating the Slytherin team with abandon. They had to bring on a reserve Chaser after he knocked one of them off their broom so hard he had to be stretchered off. Rose scored seven goals and Gryffindor won 250 to 90. A fine start to what would be James’ first and only year as team captain.

Harry made himself scarce as soon as the match was over, he felt sure James would understand him not sticking around to say hello and he knew there would be a party for him to get to in Gryffindor Tower anyway.

Despite his rush, Lily caught up to him on the way to the gates, shouting, “Wait for me, Daddy!”

He stopped on the path and watched her race up to him. He braced himself as she hurled herself the last couple of feet and into his arms. “Hey, Lily bear. Good game.” He hugged her tight a moment before setting her back on her feet.

“Sorry about the banner, Daddy,” she said earnestly.

“Nothing to do with you. I should’ve expected something like that. Probably shouldn’t have come by the school so soon.”

“It’s just a silly photo, Daddy. It doesn’t matter.”

He smiled at her and tried to look as if he agreed.

“Were you really voted Witch Weekly’s finest bottom?” she asked curiously.

Harry blushed again. “Eh, I don’t think so. I think James just made that up.”

“Oh. Did you get to see Albus?”

“Briefly, he’s not really speaking to me at the moment.”

“I’m not speaking to him,” Lily announced. “We had an argument.”

“Did you?”

“He’s being stupid about everything, as usual,” Lily declared, twirling her hair round her finger. “Both of my brothers are idiots.”

“Well,” said Harry. “Speaking as a boy, it kind of comes with the territory I think.”

Lily laughed. “You’re not an idiot, Daddy.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Harry replied faux solemnly, though he did feel ridiculously grateful to hear it. It certainly seemed as if Lily and James had both been genuine in their letters of support. “But I expect you have a celebration to get to back in your Common Room.”

“I suppose. But I don’t have to go if you want to stay longer.”

Harry was tempted, but he declined and sent her on her way back to the school with more hugs and kisses and a reminder from Lily about the broom that she wanted and that maybe Mummy could buy her a cat as well because she didn’t have a pet and all her friends did. Harry told her she would have to write to Mummy herself about that and finally escaped back out the school gates using the one use key that it turned out Lily had been chasing after him with. He had completely forgotten that he wouldn’t be able to get back out without assistance.

He wandered slowly down the road towards Hogsmeade mulling on whether he ought to tell anyone what he’d seen under the Quidditch stands. On the one hand, it was really up to the boys and he shouldn’t even know about it, on the other hand it might be enough to get him through Draco’s door. If their boys really were in some sort of relationship Draco would have to talk to him.

Besides he’d had enough of this silent treatment thing, it wasn’t something he dealt with very well and it was driving him crazy. So he apparated to Draco’s front gate and cautiously waved his wand over it in case it had been warded to keep him out. He didn’t find anything, so he pushed it open and proceeded up the path to the front door, feeling a little hopeful.

The door was opened by Draco’s house elf, Terence.

“Master Draco is not...” Terence began.

“I know you’re in there,” Harry yelled past him into the hallway. “I just came from Hogwarts, I found out something about Scorpius that I think you’ll want to hear.”

“Master Draco is not...” began Terence over again.

Before he got to the end of the sentence Draco had appeared hovering in the doorway to the sitting room. He glared at Harry down the hallway. “What about Scorpius?”

“Let me in and I’ll tell you,” Harry said firmly.

“Tell me and maybe I’ll let you in,” Draco bargained. “That is if you actually know anything at all and you’re not just trying to get in the door.”

“I do know something,” said Harry stubbornly. “And it’s not a shouted across the hallway from outside kind of a topic.”

Draco frowned at him. “If you expect me to believe you’ve suddenly developed some tact…”

“Oh, come on, Draco,” Harry broke in. “You’ve made your point, I’m an embarassment and you’re done with me. Surely we can at least have a polite conversation. Even Ginny will give me that much and she has far more right to be upset than you do. Nobody even knows you have anything to do with this aside from us and her. Your reputation is intact, unlike mine.”

Draco just stared at him for a moment. “You really are an idiot, I don’t know why that keeps surprising me. Get in here before some passerby sees you standing on my doorstep.”

He went back into the sitting room before Harry had even stepped over the threshold, but he left the door open so that Harry could follow him.

It was strange stepping back into the room where he and Draco had been so intimate in the recent past. He hovered in the doorway uncertainly. Draco had sat down in the wing back chair facing the window, his back to the door.

“Stop hovering,” he snapped without looking back at him.

Harry did as he was told and sat gingerly on the sofa. “I’m...”

“Don’t apologise, it’s pathetic.”

Harry shut up.

Draco was as tense as a strung bow, still staring out of the window as if he couldn't bear to look at Harry.

“If I’d known it would upset you this much...” Harry tried again.

“I thought you were here to talk about Scorpius,” Draco glanced at him, but then looked immediately away.

Terence brought in tea and set it on the table.

“Ah, yes. Well...” Harry fumbled with the tea and Draco impatiently took the pot off him and poured it out with swift precision. “I accidentally overheard the boys talking, I’d ducked under the Quidditch stands for a minute to, ah, hide from some of the students actually. Sounds ridiculous. Anyway, Albus and Scorpius were under there talking about some secret Albus didn’t want us to know about and I thought I better listen given what happened last time.” He paused, but Draco just stared into his tea cup. “Turns out there was something they planned to tell us over Christmas, except with everything that’s happened Albus had changed his mind. He did say he wanted to invite you and Scorpius over this year, but we’d agreed it wasn’t the best time.” Harry dithered, stirring his tea.

“Out with it, Potter,” said Draco quietly.

“I think the boys are… seeing each other.”

Draco finally looked at him, surprise in his eyes. “What?”

“I’m pretty sure, I mean I left before they… but they were very, ah, close. It seemed… intimate.” Harry felt himself blush.

Draco fumbled his teacup trying to put it on the table and splashed tea onto the rug.

“You’re not upset are you?” Harry asked, worried that Albus had been right to fear Draco’s reaction.

Draco laughed, a short bark of slightly bitter laughter. “Upset? No.” He wiped tea off his fingers with a napkin. “Surprised. Concerned, maybe. Albus is a nice boy, I like him… but he’s a lot like you. Right now, I’m not convinced that’s a particularly good thing.”

Harry let his head drop. “I know I’ve bollocksed it all up, but… do you think… I mean if I hadn’t do you think...”

“Merlin, shut up, Harry. You’re too used to Gryffindors, no wonder you and Albus can’t see eye to eye.” Draco stood up and walked over to the window. “I needed some space. I was angry, and rightfully so. Every step of the way so far you’ve tripped over your own damn feet. I’m not used to having someone blunder all over my life the way you and your family do. The last time there was this much chaos near me it was the bloody War.”

Harry stayed silent.

“You think I don’t understand what you’re going through? I know! I know how much what happened with the boys shook you up. You’re not the only one who thought he’d never see the Dark Lord again. I’ve listened to you talk it through, but I never told you how terrified I was. How terrified I still am! He was gone for decades and then suddenly we were standing feet away from him. Part of me doesn’t quite believe he’s really gone any more, I wake up from nightmares not sure what’s real, what if it happens again? What if he’ll never really be gone?”

Draco spun around and his eyes were wild, his fear openly visible. Harry stood up and came half way towards him. “I don’t under...”

“I know!” Draco cut him off sharply, then softened his tone. “I know. You don’t understand what this has to do with my being angry about the article.” Draco stepped closer and reached out to take his hand. “It’s about control.” He gripped Harry’s hand hard enough to hurt. “It’s about knowing what to expect when I get up in the morning. You shake everything up, you make these decisions out of nowhere. Just like you did when you were young, just like Albus did. And sometimes the result is just a stupid photograph of your arse in a tacky magazine… but sometimes, Harry, sometimes it’s the destruction of our entire fucking timeline and the resurrection of the Dark Lord. You terrify me.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. So they just stared at each other. Then slowly Harry reached up to Draco’s face and slid his hand over his cheek and around the back of his neck and tugged him lightly forward so that he swayed into Harry’s body. Draco let it happen and brought his free arm up to tighten around Harry’s back. They stood like that in the middle of the room, faces buried in each other’s necks, for a long while.

Finally Harry whispered into Draco’s shoulder. “I frighten myself.”

Draco let go of his hand so that he could wrap his other arm around Harry, tightening his grip.

“I nearly did something stupid today,” Harry continued, needing to tell him. “I didn’t go to Hogwarts to see a Quidditch match… I went to get something I had left there, something… something from back during the War. Something I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t take it. I can control myself, I swear I can, Draco. I know it might not seem that way sometimes, but I’m not a boy any more. And what Albus did, he learned from it, it made him grow up. He won’t make that kind of mistake again. You can trust him with Scorpius, you can trust me. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the article before it came out, it won’t happen again.”

They stayed still again for a bit before Draco drew back and looked into Harry’s face.

“I missed you,” said Harry.

Draco gave a small smile. “It was nice not having your mess cluttering up my house… but I missed you too.”

Harry felt the last of the tension running out of his body and closed his eyes with the relief as Draco kissed him lightly on the mouth.

“Scorpius and Albus,” Draco said, still processing it. “You know my boy only keeps secrets from me when it involves Albus. He writes me every week without fail, tells me everything. And yet he hasn’t even hinted about this.”

Harry opened his eyes. “Sorry,” he said ruefully. “Although I think this ones at least half my fault for throwing Al’s life into disarray just as he was planning to come out. I had no idea he even liked boys, but then Albus does like to keep secrets, he always has. Did you know?”

“About Scorpius? It had come up, not about liking Albus but about liking boys as well as girls, we’d talked about it, but he’d had such a crush on Rose Weasley since his first year that I wasn’t sure it would really matter. I must admit… I’m glad he’s given up on her, it was never going to go anywhere.”

“No,” agreed Harry. “Rose is like Hermione on Pepper Up, she’s a force of nature. And she always knows exactly what she wants and it’s never been Scorpius I’m afraid. So… Scorpius knows that you…” Harry trailed off.

“Yes, he knows I’m bisexual. Like I said, we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“None of the children know I am,” Harry said, feeling like a bad father again. “Nobody really does, I never saw any point in telling anyone when I was with Ginny anyway. She knew, that’s how she figured it out about you and me. She knew from ages back that I fancied you. And Hermione knows, she’s known since the War, and I told Oliver Wood a little while back. I told Witch Weekly as well but they never printed it. So I suppose they still might if they decided it would make a good story.”

“I doubt it,” said Draco. “Doesn’t play to their readership. But if you told one journalist they’ll likely all know by now, I expect the Daily Prophet’s just waiting to get a bit more meat before they spill it all over the front page.”

Harry sighed. “I would really really like to know what it’s like not to be so bloody famous.”

Draco sighed and kissed him again. Longer and deeper this time. And kept kissing him until he no longer cared what the Prophet printed.


End file.
